for Napowrimo Day 24: fruit
This was supposed to be about fruit. It took off in a direction that I hadn’t intended. Sometimes, reality just refuses to be prompted.
Being a Rat Chatcher is an Honourable Profession
The poncy Bichon next door
has decided to be a dog again.
For a while there, it was
a mongrel that rolled in its
own gelatinous shit.
Then it was greyhound, racing
around its garden and barking
at wheeling seagulls on updrafts.
Last summer it was a fried egg,
stretched on the sun-baked
pavement that was too hot.
It burned its paws; couldn’t walk.
And yesterday, it ate a whole salami.
Every dog on the street got a whiff
of that, and begged for bolognese.
Before that, it ate butterflies.
And bees. And the afternoon post.
And the postman’s ankle.
Anyway, it decided to be a dog again –
It caught a rat yesterday that was
stealing apples from a compost bin.
Good job. I might encourage this.
Reward it with another salami.
Every street needs a rat catcher.
for PA Day 24: nature
I sat under the apple tree,
the day taking in the last
moments of light.
and waiting like laughter
to fill the air.
And then you came,
a cup of tea in each hand,
and you sat beside me.
The Nature of Things: Coronas and Other Novel Mishaps
Another Black Death,
Choking on a grain of rice,
A slice of burnt toast,
A forest fire,
A broken dish, nee my heart,
Scarlet rust in my blood,
The needle-sting of salt,
A cold shower,
Some ice never melts,
Heaven’s white door, closed.
©️ Misky 2020 It’s Poem a Day month. These are all 1st drafts.
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